


So We Gotta Make the Most of Our One Night Together

by GlassGeorgeGlass



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consent is Sexy, Drinking but not drunk, F/M, Fairly Realistic But Romantic, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I just thought that would be cool, JD wears Dog Tags, Maybe OCC? I Dunno, Motorcycles, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Safe Sex is Sexy Too, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassGeorgeGlass/pseuds/GlassGeorgeGlass
Summary: What if Veronica had blown off Heather and the party when she ran into JD at the convenience store? What if he took her for a ride on his bike? What if they wound up at his place? It's a story of what if-- but also one of Veronica learning to live in the moment and JD to be warmed up for at least one night.
Relationships: Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 14
Kudos: 97





	So We Gotta Make the Most of Our One Night Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. So this sort of just spilled out of me the last week or so. It has nothing to do with my main story, but clearly, you all must see I like "what if's." JD and Veronica may be OCC, I don't know. It may not have a straight flow or narrative structure/theme. I dunno. It was fun to write. Maybe I should re-write it.
> 
> It's unabashed fluff and sweet smut. Just a one shot. I had a weird thought about how JD's look is like he's fighting a war and him wearing dog tags-- and mentioning a granddad in WW2-- and that just came out. I also wanted to challenge myself to see if I could make vague realism, consent, and safety sexy so... here this is. I hope you enjoy it. I might get embarrassed and delete it. I also wanted something about them on the motorcycle. The title is a lyric from Meatloaf's "Bat Out of Hell" which was an after thought but surprisingly good fit.

“Bag the party, hang here.” She looked at him-- uncombed black hair, trench coat, dog tags around his neck, flannel, black shirt, and motorcycle boots-- everything different and interesting that normal people in Sherwood, Ohio weren’t. She smiled at him, completely in awe of him flirting with her, doing her best to flirt back and be as cool as he was.

“You want me to give up going to the ‘it’ party in town to hang at the 7/11 with you?” _Oh my god, I would love to. But Heather… “_ It’s a terribly swanky offer.”

“Hey!” He said, slightly offended. “I love this place.” She looked at him, aghast.  
  
“No offense, but… why?”  
  
He shrugged and slyly smiled at her. “I don’t know. After my mom died we started moving a lot. I mean, ten high schools… ten states… everything’s always changing but this place is always the same. I guess you can say the monotony keeps me sane.” He shrugged before taking a deep sip of his slush to reiterate his love for the iced sugar water. “Plus, can’t beat the sweet rush of a Slurpee to keep you nice and cold and numb inside.” She was taken aback at that. Realizing, he shook the cup at her and smiled, trying to lighten the mood after his dark admission. Her heart tugged at the admission of his mom and all those moves coupled with his insinuation he felt numb to it all.

“Wow. Must be rough moving from place to place,” she said, not wanting to bring up his mom in case that was a sore spot for him. “But I guess everyone’s life’s got static, right?” _Honk! Honk!_ She groaned. “Like mine.” She sighed, crossed her arms and stared at him. “I don’t like my friends very much,” she said grimly. A curious smile appeared on his face, recognizing fully she might be a kindred spirit after all. _Honk._

“I don’t really like your friends either,” he agreed, annoyed that they kept killing the mood. He liked her. He liked her a lot. He couldn’t remember the last time he liked a girl this much. 

She should have been offended by his casual dismissal of her friends but she wasn’t. She admired his ability to not let the social pecking order of their school get him down. He was an outsider, but in a good way. _God, he’s so cool,_ she thought. _I wish I was half as cool as him._ “Come on, let me buy you a Slurpee,” he teased, charming her thoroughly and going to the machine.  
  
“I was always partial to a Slush Puppy myself.” She said, sliding up next to him.  
  
“A Slush Puppy? A Slush Puppy? The machine can hear you!” He whispered dramatically, making her laugh. “Oh… Veronica Sawyer, how can you say that in the house that Slurp built of all places?!”  
  
“Wow, you should go into advertising with such slogans like that.” He coughed as he did a spit take on his drink as he laughed at her joke, causing Veronica to join in on the laughter at seeing this tough badass choke on a Slurpee.

The laughter cut short when she heard the shrill voice of Heather Chandler call her name and enter the store. She grabbed her arm posessively. “Veronica! What the hell? Let’s go! Say bye bye to Red Dawn over here and let’s motor!” JD looked at her, defeated and took his two fingers in a mock salute to wave goodbye to her. He awaited her departure knowing she’d just do as her friend told her to. He didn’t get it. _You hate these people, she treats you like crap. Just ditch them already._

Veronica’s face looked defeated as she was about to walk out the door, but then back at the boy who had been making her laugh and feel special-- even desirable. She acted in a split second, surprising even herself. “Actually, Heather, you should head to the party without me.” She made eye contact with JD and he stared back stunned.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” Veronica turned and walked up to her friend, petrified inside but all cool on the out.

“I said, go on without me and give my regards to everyone. I’ll see you Monday, okay?” The Queen Bee stared daggers back at her. 

She heard the horn honk as Heather Duke now got impatient with them. Heather Chandler huffed… and she puffed… but she did not blow Veronica’s resolve down. “You know what? That’s it. Fine. Do whatever you want tonight Veronica but there will be a discussion about this. An intense discussion Monday morning. And when he ends up murdering you and dumping your body in a cornfield I’ll say a very touching eulogy for you but I’m not going to cry about it.” She huffed off and got into her car and drove off. The second she got out the door Veronica let go of every shred of cool she’d previously had.

“Holy crap,” she accidentally said out loud.  
  
“Wow,” JD said, incredibly impressed. “That was just like Joan of Arc. Well, you know, if Joan of Arc had to fight a prom queen and not, you know, the English army. Or the inquisition.”

Veronica laughed, tipsy on the madness of having told Heather Chandler she wasn’t doing what she told her to do. “I can’t believe I just did that!” His face looked up as he continued to assess her. He thought she was pretty in the cafeteria that afternoon, but in the neon glow of the national convenience chain, flush from telling her friend no, she looked smoking hot.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, delighted for the company, tossing his empty cup in the trash.

She looked at him confused. “Oh? And go where?” 

“Wherever the night takes us?” He smiled at her and let his eyes drift up and down her body. She felt an electric shock fire through her as his eyes raked over her approvingly.

She smiled, wickedly, and took his hand as he led her outside where his motorcycle was parked. “Wow,” she said. “This is your bike?” She was impressed. No one else at Westerberg rode a motorcycle. It was like something out of a TV show or movie. He popped open the storage unit and handed her his extra helmet. She took it carefully considering.  
  
“Yeah,” he shrugged, straddling it to get on. “Have you ever ridden on one before?” She shook her head. He was the first person she’d ever met with one.

“No.” Her mother would die if she found out her only daughter was on the back of one of these things. Heather’s mouth would be agape at the vision of it. Good old reliable Betty Finn’s eyes would be saucers if she saw her. She bit her lip and made a decision in a split second. She smiled wryly back at him and took the helmet and put it on, straddling the back of the bike. 

Quietly he thanked whatever power had made Veronica Sawyer fall into his lap-- both metaphorically and soon literally-- this evening as he felt her body behind his on his bike. “Well, first time standing up to Heather, first time riding a motorcycle, good night for firsts I say.”

“Just start driving Marlon Brando.” He laughed and shrugged off his coat and handed it to her. He had on thick jeans, a black t-shirt and a flannel underneath and she just had on a skimpy jean jacket over her party dress. He figured she’d need it more.

“Take it, you’ll get cold when the wind rushes past you.” She took it from him gratefully and she wrapped his coat around her. It was warm, both because it was thick and because his body heat still clung to it. She arranged it so it wouldn’t fall off of her. It was big for her owing to his taller frame, but very welcome. “And hold on to me so you stay on.” He felt her hands lightly touch his sides. A shiver of anticipation rushed through him. _She’s nervous to touch me,_ he thought.

“Um, Veronica? You have to hold on a bit tighter than that,” he said, partially flirtatious and also partially practical. The passenger did have to hold on to the driver on a bike for safety reasons. He nearly froze when he felt her arms tighten around him and her body press up close.

“Like that?” She asked, nervous but trying to match his flirtation point for point. He tried to focus on starting the bike and driving. At least, he hoped he could focus on driving safely in a straight line with the prettiest girl in school pressed up against him.

“Uh yeah,” he gulped. “That’s good.” He started the bike up and revved out of the parking lot to the sound of Veronica squealing in delight in his ear and clutching him harder.

 _I could get used to this!_ She thought as he got onto the highway and cruised around, the feeling of the air moving fast against her, the speed of the bike kicking her adrenaline up like being on a roller coaster and… and this boy she was pressed up against. Fantasies of riding on the back with him all the time floated through her head. Him pulling up in front of her house and her hopping on the back of it, them pulling up to school on it, riding like this through the night…

 _Riding him all night._ That thought popped into her head quickly, and quickly she pushed it out. Yes, he’d flirted with her at school and at the 7/11. Yes she was now riding on the back of his bike but that didn’t-- Did it mean he was interested in her like that? Really interested? A cool badass motorcycle driving trench coat and motorcycle boot wearing hot guy actually was interested in too smart and nerdy Veronica Sawyer? She decided there was no use in worrying about it and she vowed to live in the moment tonight. She had ditched Heather Chandler and the “it” soiree of the season tonight. She’d hopped on the back of his bike! Tonight was for living in the moment one hundred percent. Any repercussions or consequences were Future Veronica’s problems, not Present Veronica.

And Present Veronica was holding on to sexy Jason Dean as he cruised 60 on the highway and she felt free. Truly free for the first time in her whole teenage life. And she was now freely fantasizing about that boy ripping her clothes off and making her a woman. After riding around in circles for what felt like an hour he finally pulled up to a small split level on the edge of town.

“Where are we?” She asked as he helped her off his bike. 

“Mi casa, es su casa,” he said as he pushed the bike into a small garage next to the house. She looked and didn’t see any car parked in the driveway. 

“Oh, I guess you’re dad’s not home, is he?” He shrugged.

“Car’s gone, probably won’t be back until very late.” _And probably too drunk to be driving it._ He really didn’t want to think about his dad tonight. Not when he was still high on cruising around with Miss Veronica Sawyer all night and was desperate to get her up to his room. She handed him back his helmet as he put the bike away and closed up the garage.

“Oh, so you’re inviting me in?” Suddenly it got very real, this possibility. Alone with a boy in a house without an adult? Past Veronica would be petrified. Who knew if Future Veronica would regret it? But Present Veronica? She was very much for it.

“Well, that’s a presumptuous way to get an invitation in.” She laughed when she realized he was teasing her. “Come on, we can listen to some tapes or something.” She took his hand and followed him in… and then upstairs to his room. He watched her as she examined his room.

Her heart tightened at what she saw: unpacked boxes, a single bed with one blanket and stacks of other random things littering the floor. No furniture though, no pictures or posters, no… sign of permanency. What there wasn’t was any clues to the mystery that was Jason Dean. He hadn’t been exaggerating his transient life. There were no personal touches, no knick knacks-- just dirty laundry strewn about, stacks of books… and the boxes that made up his life. He did rush in ahead of her and quickly picked up some dirty socks and underwear and threw them into the small closet. “Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone.” He watched her as she came inside, entering his space. She slipped his coat off her body and handed it back to him.

“Thanks, you’re right it gets cold on the bike.” She hadn’t minded it in the least though-- the coat and the boy she was pressed up against kept her warm. He took it back from her and threw it on some boxes. He wished he could have smelled it to see if it had managed to pick up any of her scent but opted to not look weird in front of her. Gingerly she sat on his bed. He debated sitting next to her on it but worried it would come on too strong and scare her. Instead he sat on the floor below her. It was not the worst choice-- it gave him a great view of her bare legs in the mini skirt of the dress she had on.

“You regret not going to that party?” He asked.

“God no! That ride was the most fun I’ve had in forever.” He grinned up at her, excited to hear it.

“Good. You looked like you were on your way to an execution earlier not a kegger.” She laughed. “Hey, so what would you be doing if you were at that lame party right now?” She leaned back on the palms of her hands and thought.

“Oh, I don’t know. You know, I’ve never actually been to one of those ragers,” she said, truthfully. “I presume getting loaded? Dance to bad top 40 pop music I secretly hated that was picked out by Heather Chandler personally?” She rolled her eyes.  
  
He laughed. “Maybe with some sweaty neanderthal jock all over you?” He asked carefully. He was with her tonight, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. A lot of girls in the past ten schools and states had eagerly accepted a ride from him on the bike-- especially to piss off their parents or make a boyfriend jealous-- and the jury was still out on whether he was a brief walk on the wild side or something more for Veronica. He really hoped it was something more. He was so tired of being a meaningless passerby in other people’s lives and she seemed… different somehow.

Besides being pretty she was wicked smart, and funny. He had also noticed his own body’s reaction to hers when she was pressed up against him on his bike. It was decidedly different than the feel of any other girl he’d had on the back before. He was having difficulty understanding it himself.

She snorted. “Boys aren’t interested in me. At least not the ones from school.” He highly doubted that and was surprised by her sincerity. _So hot and she really had no idea._  
  
“Well, I can at least recreate one aspect of the party for you. Hold on!” He got up and disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes later he came back in with two cups between his fingers with ice, a bottle of rum, and a liter of Coke. Her eyes widened.

“Where’d you score that?” She asked, mildly impressed. She had most definitely never been sent in to any store to try and score underage booze owing to her round face that made her look permanently underage.

“Eh, grabbed it from my old man’s collection.”  
  
“He won’t get mad?” She asked, nervous. JD shrugged. _He’ll probably think he drank it himself. Even if he does, momentarily impressing you is worth it._

“Don’t worry about it.” He alleviated her fears and poured a shot of rum in each glass and filled the rest of it up with Coke. He handed one to her and he took the other. “So what are we drinking to?” He asked as they held up the glasses.

She thought. “To freedom,” she decided. _How was this possible? In his room, clinking glasses like this?_ She thought.

“To freedom,” he agreed as they clinked cups and took a sip. She blanched lightly at her first sip, unused to drinking and hoped he didn’t notice. He smiled at her. “I don’t drink a lot either,” he confided in her to keep her from feeling embarrassed. She giggled, feeling relieved. They continued to sip it, slowly getting used to the taste, using more Coke than rum but enjoying the illicitness of it regardless.

The night carried on as they shared the small bottle of rum and Coca-Cola. He was charming and fun to talk to. He put on some music. It was loud and fast and the exact opposite of the music Heather Chandler insisted on listening to. She had grown comfortable in his room and had slipped off her shoes and kicked them to the side and he had done the same, taking her jean jacket off and leaving it on his floor. “You’re really… funny,” she said, smiling and laughing with him. She put her empty glass down and he motioned if she wanted more. She shook her head, to decline. He didn’t refill his. She was feeling light headed from the alcohol and the good time, but not drunk enough to question her judgement and she thought it was the perfect place to stay.

Suddenly she felt warmth pooling through the center of her stomach and down between her legs. She looked down and saw that the back of his fingers were lightly brushing up and down her bare smooth ankle. His touch was warm and it shot firecrackers straight up through her whole body. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was his touch, maybe it was the theme of living in the moment that evening but her body was desperate for more contact. She was desperate to have her body pressed up against his and have him inside of her.

 _Inside of her?_ She asked herself, startled. _Yes. Yes,_ she answered internally. _Live in the moment._

“You’re really pretty,” he said back to her, more serious. That was the final straw and with her veins filled with dutch courage and the pent up desire of the night she bent down and placed her lips on his. It took him a moment to get over the shock of the physical contact, just one though. Just as she was about to pull away his hand went to the back of her head and held her in place as he deepened the kiss. A small sigh escaped her lips. When they parted she looked at him in sweet surprise.

“Wow. I didn’t know if you-- um, I mean… that was real nice,” she said.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he breathed leaning towards her again.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since you talked to me in the cafeteria.” He laughed and stood up and joined her on his bed. She leaned in and kissed him again, this time pushing him down so that his back was pressed against the mattress and she was lying flush on top of him. _That progressed quickly, but nicely,_ he thought.

They kissed slower, his hands moving up her back desperately wanting to take her dress off but waiting for some kind of signal to make sure that was okay. He got it when she pulled him up and started tugging on his own shirt. They broke momentarily to do so and she reached behind to unzip the back of her dress.

“This is okay?” He asked, nervous for the answer. “What do you want?” With a confidence she didn’t know she had she slipped the dress off her shoulders and scurried out of it letting it fall to the floor of his room. His breath was hard and his body tightened as he watched her reach behind herself and unhook her bra and cast that aside as well.

“I want everything,” she whispered. “I want you.” _Who was this Veronica?_ She thought both empowered and scared. She reached out and took his hand, placed it on her breast and caused her blood to boil as well as his. _Live in the moment. No regrets._ “What do you want?”

 _A condom,_ he thought practically. Thank god he had some in the box by the side of his bed-- leftover from some sexual awareness seminar he had been forced to take at one of his more progressive schools. He opted for something a little more smooth to tell her. “You, I want you.” She smiled sweetly and went to lean in for a kiss. He blocked her temporarily.

“Sorry,” he said, not meaning to hurt her. “Give me a moment.” He dug around the box and produced the package, opening it and showing her.

“Oh, right, I’m on the pill but… good.” With the protection still in it’s wrapper in his teeth he quickly discarded his pants and underwear and made quick work getting it on and ready. She waited next to him, anxiously hoping she didn’t chicken out. She wanted this. She couldn’t believe it was actually happening and that she had instigated it. 

It surprisingly wasn’t as awkward and mood killing as Veronica thought it would be. Moments later his arms were back around her and he was kissing her, his hands on her underpants, wanting to slide them off.

She was on top of him, straddling him trying to exude all the confidence she wasn’t sure she had, but allowing her desire, her want for him to guide her. He positioned himself to enter her, she breathed in and--

She gasped as he entered her and felt her body react so viceraly. _Well goodbye virginity,_ she thought in the back of her mind. He groaned in response, grasping her hips and guiding her to move. “How-- how’s that?”

“You’re so beautiful,” he responded.

When they finished, she collapsed on top of him and slowly moved so they were resting side by side. He got up and took care of the protection, throwing it away. Trying to compose his own emotions he told her, “bathroom’s right next to this door if you want to-- um.” He waved at her vaguely. _Yes, that would be nice. To clean up._ He handed her a shirt of his for modesty and she slipped it on, it’s slightly larger size doing the trick. Her whole body was humming and the soft fabric against her sensitive skin caused her to shiver. He grabbed his shorts and slipped them on too. As she was about to exit he grabbed her arm and quickly pulled her back to him. He leaned in and kissed her, softly and gently, caressing her face before letting her go with a dazed smile on both their lips. “That was great,” he said, woefully understating the moment but also wanting to assure her he liked it. She smiled, flummoxed but relieved he enjoyed it. She had too.

“It was,” she said, mildly dizzy. She saw his own body relax, knowing she liked it too. “I’ll, um, be right back,” she told him.

Quickly, she walked into the bathroom and cleaned herself before glancing in the mirror. “I can’t believe that just happened,” she actually said out loud. Seeing a comb on the sink she quickly ran it under the faucet to wet it and dragged it through her hair neatening it. She checked her appearance in the mirror but didn’t mind what she saw. She wasn’t perfectly made up anymore, but she didn’t look too much like a mess. She was glad she hadn’t let Heather go to town tonight on her makeup.

Any fear of awkwardness when she got back in was allayed as she saw him lying on his bed. A slow smile creeped up his face as she walked over and slipped back in with him, discarding his shirt beforehand. They contorted their bodies so that her head was on his chest with his arm held tight against her and he sighed and snuggled her content. “That was not how I expected this night to go when I went for a Slurpee run tonight, I can tell you that.” She laughed as she delicately traced small patterns on his chest.

“I have a confession to make.”  
  
“Oh? You’re secretly here to steal my brains and turn me into a pod person?” He joked. “After that? I’m completely fine with that.” She laughed.

“No, doofus. It’s just that… well, that was kindofmyfirsttime,” she mumbled into his chest.

“What?” He lifted his head and stared at her, surprised.  
  
“That was my first?” He was still speechless. “I mean, you and tonight-- I’ve never--” 

“Why didn’t you say something beforehand?” Suddenly self conscious, he ran his fingers through his hair and looked at her, worried. 

“I was worried that maybe, I dunno… maybe you wouldn’t want to if you knew I-- I wasn’t experienced?” He leaned down and kissed her.

“I’d want you no matter what,” he told her, still stunned. She quietly smiled, relieved. “It’s only… well, I maybe wouldn’t have been as-- needy? pushy?-- if I’d known.”

“You were fine," she assured him. "I told you I wanted it. Also, I mean, I know I don’t have anything to compare it to but-- I just mean, um- I liked it. A lot.” She looked at him tenderly and he tightened his arm around her. He had to admit, a sense of pride filled him knowing he was her first-- her only. She wanted him for that. She wanted him that much tonight.  
  
“Well, good.” He licked his lips and couldn’t hide the proud smile on his lips. “Just means we’ll have to do this a lot for you to have the proper experience to judge it.” She laughed and he playfully rolled her over to her back-- a slightly difficult move considering how small his bed was. He braced his weight on his arms and gazed down at her. She was so pretty with her head resting against his pillow. The dog tags around his neck fell down just grazing her own chest. She had noticed them around his neck earlier but hadn’t thought to ask him about them. She thought it was maybe a fashion thing but she didn’t realize he hadn’t taken them off when they lost their clothes. Carefully she reached out and examined them. They read: 

_Dean, Jason U  
_ _37337566 T42 43 O  
_ _Rose Dean  
_ _223 Spring St  
_ _Galveston, TX C_

“Are these real?” She asked, surprised it had his own name on them and how old they looked. 

“Yeah,” he was surprised to have her ask him about them. “They were my grandpa’s. He died four years ago. I was helping my grandma clear some of his stuff and found them. She told me I could keep them.” For some reason he didn’t like taking them off. They felt like they were a part of him now.

“Crazy coincidence that he had the same name as you,” she asked, not thinking it through.

“Um, yeah. It’s my dad’s dad.” He paused. “I was named after him,” he replied with a small laugh. She cringed, realizing a second after she said it that it wasn’t that uncommon to have the same name as your grandfather.

“Shut up, I realized that a second later. But still, the rest of the info…?” He nodded.

“Same blood type and Rose was my grandma and she still lives at that address. She’s as good as any for next of kin.” He didn’t add that most of the time he wished his dad had just dumped him to live there after his mother died instead of dragging him around with him. Grandma watched too much home shopping network and had too many nips at the bottle too but at least she stayed put. Hell, Grandma had never been more than ten miles from her birth city her whole life. Grandpa’s stint in the army had been his only travel adventure too. “The number was his serial number, and after that was the date of his tetanus shot. The ‘c’ meant he was Catholic.”  
  
“Weird to put religion on there.”  
  
“It was so if they found him dead or close to it they’d know whether to get a priest or rabbi or what to do with the body.” She shivered at the grisliness of the realities of war and was surprised at his non-chalantness. 

“Spooky,” she replied.

He shrugged. “Practical.”

“What’s the U stand for?” 

“Ulysses,” he mumbled, embarrassed. 

She couldn’t stifle a surprised giggle. “Ulysses? Like the novel?” 

“It’s a family name,” he told her, embarrassed needlessly. “Somewhere down the line we must have had a Latin speaker that really liked The Odyssey. Or someone really liked the ex-president. I don't know.” She laughed.

“Jason Ulysses Dean,” she said in an important voice, giggling. He grimaced, but laughed at it nonetheless. He never told anyone his middle name if he could help it. “I kind of like it.” His heart filled at what may have been a casual remark, but even still it warmed him. “These are actually pretty cool,” she said, still toying with the tags. “I guess no matter what happens to you they’ll be able to identify your body,” she said without thought. A shiver went through her at that ghoulish comment, but he didn’t notice.

“Yeah, I guess that was my thought too.” He smiled down at her, wanting to change the subject. “So, what other firsts do you want tonight?” He asked her.

“What do you mean?” She asked, letting the tag fall back between their bodies and his mouth went to her neck. She mewled lightly as he started to gently kiss and suck at the tender skin, his teeth skimming over it making her whole body quake in anticipation. _Did this happen with every guy?_ She wondered. Or was this specialness, the way her body reacted just with him? She thought about asking him, but worried it would ruin the moment.

“I mean, I may not have taken care of you properly earlier but now…” He continued down her body until he reached the swell of her breasts and glanced up at her-- her mouth opened practically purring and her eyes fluttered shut-- he carefully closed his mouth over her nipple and sucked on it. He was rewarded for his efforts with a hand delicately buried in his hair and a strained and whispered, “oh god, JD, that feels so good.” She still felt a little pleasantly sore between the legs from their first encounter but her body seemed raring to go for more. He moved his mouth over to her other one-- lest it feel left out-- and did the same. After a moment he moved his head to look up at her, now putty in his hands. “I figured you might like to properly come for the first time tonight too.”

“Come where?” She asked, slightly confused. It dawned on her. “Oh you mean--” He glanced at her smugly as his mouth resumed it’s course and he planted a soft lingering kiss on her tummy below her belly button. 

_Orgasm Veronica Sawyer,_ her inner monologue told her, _this boy is going to make sure you have your first proper orgasm. Oh god, is he a keeper._

She licked her lips and spread her legs for him as he lifted them and hooked them over his shoulders. He started slow, teasing her by kissing and licking her inner thighs, his hands stroking up and down them slowly. She gasped and straightened her body excitedly when his warm tongue finally entered her and began it’s sworn duty to lick and suck her until she came. She could feel him groaning in pleasure too as she writhed and moaned under his attention, unsure if she ever wanted this night to end.

She came with a quiet squeal and a violent explosion of her arms and chest as the orgasm wracked through her body. She had come before in her own adolescent explorations-- alone at night in her bed-- but that was nothing compared to what he had done to her. Still shaking she looked down at him tenderly wanting to do anything in her power to thank him for that and reached down to touch his cheek wanting to pull him up to try and return the favor however he wanted it. 

“Do you-- do you want me to do the same for you?” She asked carefully. Never having had sex was one thing, it seemed logical the way those two parts worked but putting her mouth on him? She worried it was a skill she would be woefully unpracticed at. She wracked her brain for tips and tricks from years of reading Cosmo and other women’s magazines and anything she’d ever heard the Heathers say about it in the girl’s room.

“Do you want to?” He asked, nervous she’d rescind the offer. He wasn’t into forcing her to do it, but if she wanted to he wasn’t going to turn it down. Playing her body to a full crescendo had been almost as intense for him as it had been for her and he had felt his own dick harden and rise even though he had just had it inside her not that long ago. _This girl,_ he realized, _this girl was very special._ Talking to her, laughing with her, listening to her moans, tasting her, feeling her soft skin under his fingers-- he found himself addicted to her.

“I do,” she said, resolved. “Um, just tell me--” they were in the process of rolling their bodies around so that she was now on top of him. She ran her fingers over his torso and down to the space between his legs. Amazed at his male beauty and how easily she could make him feel like he made her feel. Carefully she took him in her hand and started to stroke him up and down feeling him get harder. “Tell me if I’m doing something wrong.” He groaned underneath her gentle fingers, wanting more.

“Darling, you’re doing fantastic,” he told her hissing as her delicate fingers squeezed him. Carefully she bowed her head and jumped in head first taking her hands away and slipping him inside her mouth. Judging by his noises and the fact that his hand was now in her hair she didn’t think it was a bad job she was doing. She glanced up at him to have a thrill wrack through her-- he was watching her intensely in between his own head bobbing back in ecstasy.

“Stop, Veronica, stop. I’m about to-- I don’t want to finish in your--” Quickly she pulled her mouth away from him and looked at him confused. In a state of fierce arousal he rolled off to the side and took himself to hand. 

“Do you want me to--” She reached out to finish with her hand but he batted her away knowing he could finish quicker on his own.

“It’s okay I can--” He finished with an intense groan. After a moment he rolled back toward her and took her back in his arms, spooning her from behind and sighing in post-coital bliss. “Sorry,” he whispered in her ear. “I didn’t think you’d want to-- I mean-- on your first time you wouldn’t like--”  
  
“Oh, yeah, thank you,” she said, understanding. He didn’t want to make her answer the ol’ spit or swallow question. It was actually nice of him to think that. They were quiet as they snuggled in the night, sleep starting to tug at both of them.

They laid together in silence. “Um. JD? Are you awake?”  
  
“Hrmm. What is it?” He asked, clearly drowsy.

“Can I just ask you… was this just-- a one time thing for you?” She asked, nervous and quiet. She wanted to be mature about it if it was. He hadn’t made any promises to her and she hadn’t made that clear at the beginning.

“Is it for you?” He asked just as nervously.

“No, I mean, I was hoping--” She felt her heart slipping out of her chest to land on her sleeve awaiting whether it would be hugged or crushed by him. “But if you--” He turned her head and quieted her with a kiss.

“I want to see you. A lot.” She smiled to herself. Curious how even though they’d just had sex it was that admission that made her realize he really liked her. “You’re really- you’re really- I like you. A lot. I want to see you.” He cursed to himself at how stupid that must have sounded.

“I like you too,” she whispered back to him, warmth flooding her. “I want to see you a lot too. I definitely want to ride on your bike as much as you’ll let me.” He laughed elated that she wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. That more nights like this one-- nights of them riding around, laughing, having fun-- would be in their future..

“Whenever you want,” he agreed as he felt post-coital drowsiness grip him. He yawned and pulled her body tighter against him. She moaned, loving it. “Can you spend the night?” He asked, unsure if she had a curfew or not.

“My parents think I’m sleeping at Heather’s tonight after the party,” she realized. “I can stay if you don’t mind.” He kissed the back of her neck.

“I do not mind it at all.” 

“You’re dad won’t-”  
  
“He won’t notice,” he told her, truthfully. He still wasn’t home and if he was out this late he’d sleep in late too. He’d take her out before he noticed. She succumbed to his assurances. He briefly got up and grabbed his blanket that had fallen to the edge. He pulled it over the two of them and they snuggled into the cocoon.

They were both on the cusp of sleep but before it claimed both of them Veronica whispered. “Jason Ulysses Dean?”  
  
“Hmm?” He asked, wincing. He was tired and also embarrassed he told her his middle name. 

“You told me earlier you’re frozen inside.” He felt his heartbeat oddly in his chest. “But this bed, with you? It’s the warmest I’ve ever been.” He had no idea what to think of that. His bed at night was usually so cold. But tonight? With Veronica? It was the warmest he’d felt in a long time too. He didn't know how to tell her all that but he answered the best he could.

"Veronica?"

"Hmmm?" She sighed in response, struggling to stay awake.

"Thanks for ditching that party and hanging out here tonight." She wiggled her body against him sweetly in response. 

"You're welcome," she mumbled.

Present Veronica had no idea what would be in store Monday morning for Future Veronica, but in this moment? In the now? She was quite content snuggled in for the night with Jason Ulysses Dean's arm around her and his breath on her neck. Sleep claimed them both a few moments later.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos? Comments?


End file.
